


Silent Night

by blacktemple



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-24 22:57:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3787483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktemple/pseuds/blacktemple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only bones left for Will Graham to solve the crime. Everybody thought so, Except Will Graham. He knew there were something peculiar about the crime, but he could not tell what it was or why. He asked his good doctor, Hannibal Lecter, to help him out to find the truth.</p><p>or.</p><p>Hannibal did something to save Will without Will's consent, as usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything. This is fan work.  
> Not beta-ed.  
> I am not good with tags *sight*. Maybe everything else? This is first time I post something on here. Please bare with me.

 

 

 

Will closes his eyes. His clothes are wrinkled more than usual because a victim's mother snatched him when he got out of his car. She cried out for her children. She was through herself mindlessly so three male agents were not enough to hold her down. She is thin. Too thin like she could disappear into the air. Will noticed blue shot marks on her both arm and naked toe. She is a drug addict. She cried. All her sanity survived after long term drug abuse is now used to persuade one question. Why? Why my angels had to die? She desperately wanted to know what happened to her sweet children. A boy and a girl. Will tries his best not to drag him into her emotion. He glances up a tech guy, about bored to die, a rookie hops from here to there excitement, and others as much as possible. Every time he jumps between a person to person, he can cope from the mother's emotions. When Jack comes a foot away from him, Will was out of juice. Rubbing under his eyes, Will asks without hiding his irritation and tiredness.  
  
“Do you have to bring me here?”  
  
Jack nods, but after short hesitating. It is really rare to see Jack stops for a moment before he gives his orders out, except this time. Everything about the case makes him to do that. The room is too bright and cheerful to hold one of the most gruesome event ever happened in the history of crime, at least for Will's profiling history. There's no artful masterpiece like the Ripper, or commitment like the Angel Maker. There is no emotion around it. Only calm and peace. That makes Will scared. Will tries his best not to see dead bodies of children. The Killer put them in a small School's art room which abandoned five years ago when the coal mine was out of coal. The school itself is not big, but well built so everything in there is functioning. Electricity is in but there's no need to turn lights on except on hallways. Through the large window, sunlight drags out every detail of the crime scene. Will moves his eyes fast from up and down, left to right.  
  
“I do not want to know what is going on the killer's mind. Jack. It is all about kids. I hate to do it. ”  
  
Will's voice is shaking. Jack winced a bit. After a minute, Jack almost whispers.  
  
“We have to catch him before he kills another.”  
“He or She.”  
“Statistically, more He.”  
  
Will breaths in deeply. Somehow blood of victims makes the air sweet with sharp metallic note, which never had happened in other crazy places both Jack and Will had to visit. It makes Jack hesitate, and Will, of course, sick. Everything in here is totally wrong.  
  
“You want me to be a child molester and a killer.”  
“It is an occupational hazard we already know. You have to do it, Special Agent Graham.”  
“Jack,”  
“No. You came here. Do your job. Understand?”  
  
Will twitches. His eyes darting around from one agent to another agent. They fume anger, frustration, desperation, horror and vengeance. Vengeance. Will touches his neck lightly to check there is no collar around his neck. The only thing his finger finds was cheap china silk necktie, but will have to remove it as soon as possible. It hangs around his neck like loosening snood. He was snatched by Jack right after his class so he didn't have time to change. His tweed jacket is old but good one, and only one formal wear enough to be a lecturer in the academy. Will takes off his jacket, and folds over his arm. Then, speaks softly.  
  
“I want to ask a special favor, Jack. Everybody out. Let me stay here for a day.”  
“What?”  
“I said 'special', didn't I? If you need to find a babysitter, bring Dr. Lecter here. No one else. Not even you, Jack.”  
  
Jack growls. He grinds his teeth, moves his face muscles until he doesn't look like a human, but an angry beast and breath in and out with anger. Nothing works on Will. Will stands up calmly and looks directly into jack's eyes.  
  
“You want me to be the killer. Usually I am really good at it, but not this time, Jack. There is something surreal in here. I do not know what will happen to me. It's almost empty here. Too cold to be a real crime. There is no human element, but here....”  
  
Will turns his face from Jack to the floor.  
  
“Too many people, Jack. All of them, includes you are, bombs filled with emotions. Almost point of ca-boom. I want blankness. All things are gone.”  
“Dr. Lecter is also a human.”  
“He is a surgeon and a psychiatrist. He knows how to detach himself from corpses.”  
“Corpses.”  
  
Jack spits out his words and angrily gazes upon Will. Will wets his lip a bit, and confesses to Jack.  
  
“Jack. I also need a doctor, in case I am lost.”  
“Lost?”  
“When I was a cop. You know I got a shot, right?”  
  
Jack nods.  
  
“In the reports, unknown crime scene. Only few blood stains were found. It was true, but not true enough for me. I saw few young girls' bodies. They were tied, tortured, and sexually abused. I usually get into the Killer's shoes, but not that day. I was one of girls.”  
  
Jack stops breathing.  
  
“Not only a girl, but the girl. She was scapegoat, given by the kidnappers. They wanted to make perfect slaves. Obedient, loving, and perfect. So they picked up one of the ugliest and put all blame on her. Other girls believe in. They were too soft to resist. I was captured in that moment, until one of the criminals hit on my shoulder for good. ”  
  
Will blinks his eye once.  
  
“If I make the jump this time, I do not know what will happen. I need to check reality, somebody holds me tight. Or, put something sharp on my shoulder without damage me much.”  
“You did not tell me this before.”  
  
Anger was in Jack's voice. Will opens his mouth wider so his teeth are shown like a cornered cat.  
  
“I said I hate to do it. I rarely hate something, Jack. Hatred requires energy which I do not have. I dislike, I avoid, not hate. But this, I hate. I hate any cases with children in it.”  
  
Will hisses few times between his words. Jack stands like a stone statue for a while. Will let him take whatever he needs. He also needs some time to calm down. Will closes his eyes and focuses on outside of the bright room. There is nothing except cool and dusty hallway, but there is more human in it. Will can see few faint ghosts of happy children from long time ago. They were happy. They had few recesses and some smuggled lunch snacks. Maybe a teacher was off so no homework for that day. It is simple and joyous. Will breaths in and out slowly among his images. A small piece of land full with sand was enough to make them happy. Suddenly Will feels sharp pain. He wants to hide between them. He wants to run away from responsibilities. Will tights his mouth and forcefully opens his eyes. Will Graham will not run away. He bites inside of his cheeks.  
  
“I will do, Jack. I am not turning my back at this point.”  
  
Jack squints his eyes.  
  
“Will this break you?”  
“I don't know. But you want to catch the killer, right?”  
  
Will smiles. It is not a big smile, but enough to make him a little bit younger and more fragile.  
  
“I could quit this job right after I heard about this crime, Jack. Maybe I had to.”  
“But you didn't.”  
“Yes. I protest a bit, but it's a kinda show-off. I want to make sure I will hate the killer, even I will understand it fully.”  
  
Jack opens his mouth, but doesn't say a thing. He turns away and barks some orders to move everybody out to the nearest hotel. Will follows Jack, but left behind in hallways. Somebody in FBI calls to a department to department to make sure a helicopter to pick up a nice doctor in Baltimore. Will smiles a bit. Doctor Hannibal Lecter is too grandiose to be in a modern machine. He is a man more with golden chariot with winged horses. Will laughs at that image. Blue plaid Jacket with crazy patterned silk neckties and ornamented golden chariot like once Hyperion drove over ancient Greek sky are starts singing some chants for the good doctor. It was so unbalanced image and too laughable. Will laughs until he feels some pain on his chest. Then he cries. It slowly fades out to sob. All his body starts aching and his brain does not want to work anymore. Will blinks his eyes several times, but he is too tired. His eyes are closed. Few small drops of waters hanging tight on his long curled eyelash disappeared into his sleeves. Will curls up as tight as a ball and sleeps. The hallway is cold, but at least it has some faint hint of young children's laughter and good memories.  
  
“Will.”  
  
Will opens up his eyes when a warm hand taps his shoulder.  
  
“Will.”  
  
Will tries to focus on, but it was not easy. He feels every joint of his body aches and muscles are stiffened from head to toe. Will grunges and tries to move his body, but it doesn't work.  
  
“Will. Can you hear me?”  
  
The hand moves from Will's shoulder to Will's hand and then Will's knees. Warmth spreads out from every point he touches.  
  
“Yes. Dr. Lecter. I was sleeping, but....”  
  
Will can't finish the sentence. Whole body, even a single toe does not want to move as his brain commands.  
  
“Let me help you.”  
  
Will smiles faintly. The good doctor smiles back with a polite nod. He looks Will carefully just as he does to other patients, and touches Will's knees gently. Will winces and bites lower lips not to make any whimpering. Hannibal softly massages his legs and moves up to the belly, and finally back and neck. Will shakes his arm as Hannibal asks. Finally Will can untangle himself and stand up. Hannibal checks Will's eyes quickly and said scornfully.  
  
“You are slightly dehydrated.”  
“I haven't drunk or eat anything since... Wait. What time?”  
“6:30. P.M.”  
  
Will blinks his eye.  
  
“Well, that means for twelve and a half hours.”  
  
Hannibal frowns. Will shakes his hand up and down to dismisses his good doctor's concern.  
  
“I need a good coffee, with a lot of sugar and cream. Not a lecture. Do not give a teacher a lecture.”  
  
Will giggles bitterly, turning away from the doctor. It looks like somebody hold his neck and drags him - like an old rag doll dragged everywhere with its young master. Will moves his arm with haste almost a point of injury. Popping sound came from every bone in Will's body. Hannibal sighs softly and stops Will.  
  
“That is not a proper way to stretch your body. It may harm you.”  
“I am already damaged, doctor. One addition is not a big deal.”  
“Then, at least give me a chance to improve your condition.”  
  
Will is about to say no, but that 'no' is not fast enough. Hannibal takes out a long and elegant tumbler out of a picnic basket he held. When he opens it, smell of heaven stops will from pain and makes him moan softly.  
  
“Coffee.”  
“Yes. You gave Jack an idea about sleep over in such a strange place.”  
“It is not a sleep over.”  
“It is not my house, and I was invited by you. It has all elements of sleep over.”  
  
Will opens his mouth to protest, but when he saw Hannibal's solemn face, he gives up and smiles a bit.  
  
“You have never been invited to sleep over.”  
“Had. You invited me today.”  
“Okay, okay.”  
  
It is rare to see Will's laughter, although it has its own charm. It is soft but not weak. It is full of gentleness and warmth make anybody listens happily. Hannibal shows genuine smile to Will. It is hard not to do. Hannibal hands Will a paper cup of coffee and Will receives it enthusiastically. After the first sip, Will turns his face up to the ceiling and murmur soft thanks. They both drink quietly for a while.  
  
Will slowly regains his stamina enough to look around. Hannibal brought tons of stuffs with him - a picnic basket full of food, two professional mountain claimer quality sleeping bags, and other small items tightly packed in a few small bags and a suitcase. Will curiously observes bags while moving his lips several times without making any sounds. Finally, Will sighs and asks.  
  
“You really want a sleep over.”  
“It is your idea, Will. You want me to play a doctor during your special...”  
  
Hannibal trails off. Will's eyes are widened and finishes the sentence.  
  
“...Career day.”  
  
Will laughs again. This time it is louder and happier.  
  
“I can't believe it. I can't believe you enjoy those stuffs. It is too low for you.”  
“Everything has its own virtue, even it is a small pebble.”  
“Now, that is a good career day advise.”  
  
Hannibal slightly bends his waist forward like a gentleman does. Will grins before he asks more coffee. Hannibal gracefully obliges. Both of them drink in silence. Will controls his breath more regularly tries not to blink too much. This is a good time and he wants to carry it with him. Finally, cup shows its bottom. Will swallows hard.  
  
“Now, I have to go in there.”  
  
Hannibal slightly tenses up. Will nods with acknowledgment.  
  
“You heard it.”  
“From Jack, Yes.”  
“So.”  
  
Will rubs his face roughly.  
  
“Let's cut the crap. I want you slap me, punch me or stab me if it is necessary.”  
“There should be other options.”  
  
Hannibal cocks like a lizard. Will finds it is comfortable. Hannibal's gesture is full of awareness of a predator which Will is relied on.  
  
“You are a good doctor.”  
  
Hannibal blinks fast. His satisfactory grins appear up quickly before he puts himself back as calm a surgeon preparing a hard operation.  
  
“Before we go.”  
  
Hannibal stops Will.  
  
“I want to know why you really want me here.”  
“Jack told you. Right?”  
“Yes. He did. Unfortunately, his communication ability is not what I respect. I want to hear it from you.”  
“I hate any crimes involving children.”  
  
Hannibal narrows his eyes. Will twists his lips and walks a few steps back.  
  
“Tell me the truth, Will. You are a fighter. A true warrior who faces the darkest of the darkest and the ugliest of the ugliest of human nature, but still capable to adore them and concern them as precious stones. Your exquisite nature will not simply makes you this strange arrangement. What disturbs you so deeply?”  
  
Will mutters few indistinguishable words. Hannibal waits patiently. Will is fidgeting almost a point of shriveling. Hannibal makes a step forward. Will is conflicted between his flight or fight instinct. Hannibal opens his hands palm up to show his harmless intention.  
  
“Please, Will. I want to help you.”  
  
It sounds almost like begging, if it is not from Hannibal. Will was not cruel enough to reject his friend's plea. Will opens his mouth finally.  
  
“Because this is not a crime by something I know, Hannibal. It is not done by human.”  
  
Hannibal doesn't say a word. Will blows airs out from deep inside as long as possible.  
  
“It is insane. I know.”  
  
Few blinks are enough for the doctor to pose himself back and calmly apologizes.  
  
“Sorry. Will. That was rude of me. ”  
“No. Dr. Lecter. I know. I know.”  
  
Will's lips continuously quiver to push more words out. It is all he can do. He bites his lower lips, weaving his fingers tighter and tighter, and shakes his legs convulsively. Hannibal lightly touches Will's thigh, making Will to jolt up.  
  
“Relax, Will. I do not think you are wrong.”  
  
Hannibal's soothing voice is not enough for Will. Will hitches, howling to the doctor.  
  
“Isn't it obvious? I brought up a supernatural thing.”  
“You did not mention anything out of boundary of modern science. My assumption was an animal with some intelligence.”  
  
Will sucks air suddenly. A few moments later, he breathes out with some bitterness in.  
  
“My bad. You did not see the crime scene.”  
  
Hannibal nods lightly.  
  
“Well, I have not seen it enough, but I think I saw enough to say it. It was not done by an animal.”  
“Then, by what?”  
  
Will sharply moves his eyes up to Hannibal's face, but as soon as he sees the doctor's high cheek bone, he turns away his gaze.  
  
“What? I do not know. But I know this. It won't be pleasant.”  
  
Will winces painfully.  
  
“It won't be fucking pleasant.”  
  
Hannibal does not give anything. He stands for a minute like an old marble statue. It is enough time to make Will blushes from his improper words. Slowly, Hannibal takes few steps up right next to Will, and holds the classroom door.  
  
“I do not mind to share some pain with you, Will.”  
  
Will closes his eyes shut. Hannibal brushes Will's hand back gently.  
  
“Let's do this.”  
  
Will nods, taking off his glasses. He moves his chin up and steps into the darkened room.  
  
  
It was quiet. Too quiet. When Will opens his eyes in the room, all light sources are gone. First, Will thinks somebody covered his eyes. It is not true. At some moment, something sucked out every light in the room.  
  
_Something_ was there.  
_Something is here._  
  
Will shivers. His clenching teeth make uncomfortable sound waves, tearing up his nerves.  
  
Something was _wrong_ there.  
_It is wrong to look back._  
  
Will's body frozen. He remembers he did not see any pendulum when he made the jump. A bright golden beam of lights had been there always. It had guided Will so many times, but not this time. Will hugs his body with his arms and tries to look around as much as possible. There is nothing. Only darkness. Will pushes himself harder. His knuckles turn white and his body occasionally shaken by fear, but Will does not stop looking back.  
  
_It will break you._  
  
Will notices the voice is not his. It sounds like him, but something else was slithering behind, like a snake under a sheep's skin. Will bites inside of his cheek and tries to make a sound. It doesn't work. His throat is too tight, his tongue is too heavy and his lips are uncontrollable like a drunkard's. He feels a burning sensation inside of his chest. There is too much pain. Swallowing burning charcoal would be easier than this. The voice whispers again.  
  
_Go back. Go back to your place. It is not yours to see. Your service is no more required._  
  
Will bites himself harder. Sharp pain and tasting blood is enough for him to make progress. He moves his arm up to remove an invisible curtain, speaking softly.  
  
“Their parents deserve the truth, and I am the only one who can deliver it.”  
  
Suddenly, Will sees pendulum. He inhales deeply and let all things come after him.  
  
Three girls and three boys were innocent as much as a lamb should be. A good man, a poor messenger received a message to sacrifice them. Two of them were his own blood and fresh. He was crying when he sent his children with others to this place as he ordered. It was with him. He guided poor father to let go his own because it was a necessity. 'The time is coming.' It was what it thought. It was irritated by something. The time is coming, but its opponents do not budge. It was not acceptable. It had to remind the foe and, as promised, save those innocent from the great pain. It looked children. They were bathed, wearing best clothes they could get, and held each others hand tightly. The children sang a slow song. A silent night. It smiled. It was a perfect song to announce upcoming. It removed his own shell and light were sucked into it. Everything was gone, except the last note of song children sang. It lurked in the air, made air sweeter. Suddenly the whole room turned into red. Will feels thick liquid floods out his nose, ears, eyes and mouth. It is too painful to see more.  
  
_Now, begone!_  
  
It barks. It does not hide under Will's voice anymore. The red room shattered a thousand pieces and every piece cut Will. Pain burns his body. It is the last thing Will remembers before he wakes up in Hannibal Lecter's arm. He is naked in the middle of the blood pool. Hannibal hugs him tightly, kissing his forehead.  
  
“I thought I lost you.”  
  
Will wants to ask Hannibal what happened, but he was too tired to do anything. Instead, he clutches Hannibal's sleeves and fell into sleep like a dead man.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
  
  
  
  


  
“Coffee.”  
  
Will murmurs. It is really good to have a cup of Joe early morning, especially he is not making. Sweet smell of sugar and roasted hazelnut dances between morning sunlight. Birds are chirping cheerfully. It is a perfect morning. Too perfect.  
  
“Dr. Lecter?”  
“Ah, you woke up. Your coffee is ready.”  
  
Will jumps up from where he lied before. He is naked as he remembers, but his clothes are folded neatly on the floor achieving home magazine perfection. There is no blood, no burning sensation. Will turns his head toward the crime scene. There should be six bodies of children sitting on a chair and waiting for something. The chairs are still there, but no bodies. Will fanatically walks toward the desks where dead bodies are set. Behind him, Hannibal shouts.  
  
“Will, Stop!”  
  
It is too late when Will feels something lacerated his bare feet. Will looks down. Tiny broken bones are shattered and covered the whole floor, except where Will and Hannibal rested. Will slowly turns his head only.  
  
“Let me help you. Slowly. Step backward, Will. Do not put too much weight on your heels. Yes. Like that.”  
  
Hannibal's soothing voice guides him out. Will gasps and shakes until the good doctor brings out warm blankets over his naked body and squeezes his shoulder tightly.  
  
“What happened? Where are the bodies?”  
“On the floor, as you see.”  
  
Hannibal calmly answers, but Will can see his eyes are observing with worries.  
  
“It is not right. I saw six dead bodies. Jack saw them, too.”  
“Yes. There was six skulls picked up by FBI.”  
“Not skulls. Young Children! Blood everywhere, It is hiding inside of me, and....”  
“Hush, Will.”  
  
Hannibal secures the blanket over Will's shoulder.  
  
“You speak too fast. Only word I could understand was Children. You need to calm down.”  
  
Long and strong fingers lightly touches Will's cheek.  
  
“You are cold. Did you take any medicine yesterday night?”  
“No!”  
  
A sharp cry bursts out. It consumes Will's last strength so he has to sink down to the floor. Hannibal moves his eyebrow up a bit, but that is all reaction he shows. He comes closer to Will and kneels down with one knee.  
  
“Tell me. What is your name?”  
“I am not in the mood for a silly quiz. Doctor.”  
  
Will snaps. Hannibal smiles, but he orders Will with more authority.  
  
“What is your name?”  
  
Will twitches first. Hannibal let Will takes some time. He put his hands over Will's forehead. It is clammy and cold. Hannibal continuously checks out Will with clinical manner. He takes out thermometer and put it under Will's underarm. He rubs Will's bareback to check any injury was made when Will collapsed. Then, he brings out a cup of water to Will. Will accepts it without any thinking.  
  
“It is rude not to accept it.”  
  
Will whispers. Hannibal agrees.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Will blinks several times. Each time, something moves fast in his eyes, but it is too fast to catch by any people. Hannibal watches Will with predatory curiosity. Will matches his eyes to the doctor. It is beautiful. Emptied like a white paper and clean like a lake never touched by any human. Hannibal leans closer to Will and blows a short breath over Will's eyes. Will does not blink. He breaths in Hannibal's smell for a while, until the doctor commands him.  
  
“Drink water.”  
  
Will drinks it slowly. After a half cup of water is disappearing between Will's lips, he opens his mouth.  
  
“My name is Will Graham.”  
“Where are you Will?”  
  
Will bites his lower lips.  
  
“I do not know. I was in the dark place. Nothing was there.”  
“You can see, Will. Look around. Where are you?”  
“I am in a classroom. Looks like an art class. There are four big windows facing south, so the sunlight comes in easily.”  
“That is a very good start.”  
  
Hannibal encourages Will.  
  
“Now I have to check your feet. It may discomfort you, but I want you to keep describing more.”  
“There is dust everywhere. People haven't been here at least for a year. Walls were painted mint green, and floors are well finished with fake marble slaps. I can see three wood easels. It is not commercially made. Parents donated it because they want to their children learn more, with love.”  
  
Hannibal hits Will's knees lightly. Auto-reflex kicks in as fast as he hits. His fingers moving slowly down and check Will's scars. It is still bleeding. Few white chips are crushed into red skin. Hannibal opens his tumbler and gently put Will's feet into a big plastic bag. He pours some water over Will's feet and Will starts to giggle happily. Hannibal smiles.  
  
“That makes you happy.”  
“It tickles, and, yes. It is well built. It is not the best, but their parents put an enormous amount of effort.”  
“Go on. What else you see?”  
  
Hannibal brings out a small first aid pack. He picks out big bone shards with tweezers without any difficulty.  
  
“You, Dr. Lecter.”  
  
Hannibal doesn't respond back right away. As all good doctors do, he is focused to care his patient. Will tries to move his feet away but Hannibal holds it firmly.  
  
“It is almost done. Will.”  
  
Hannibal's hands are steadfast. Their movements mesmerize Will. It unrolls clean cotton gauze like a magic. They make wonderful knots to hold bandage without any difficulty. All things move in a continuous rhythm, very well orchestrated.  
  
“We're done. Can you wiggle your toe?”  
  
Will follows the doctor's instruction.  
  
“Excellent.”  
“It is.”  
  
Will murmurs softly, watching Hannibal's lips curve up.  
  
“Let's try again. What is your name?”  
  
Will hesitates for a second, but soon he opens his mouth obediently.  
  
“Will Graham.”  
“Where are you, Will?”  
“Joseph Mount elementary school. It was abandoned a few years ago. Now It is a crime scene.”  
“Good. It is 7:15 morning. Will. Can you put what you said together?”  
“My name is Will Graham. I'm in Joseph Mount elementary school. It is 7:15 morning.”  
“Great.”  
  
Hannibal touches Will's thigh lightly. It was warm and soft. Will puts his hand over when Hannibal turns back to clean up messes. He does not want to slip from reality. To do that, He has to admit he was wrong.  
  
“So, there were no recently dead bodies, Dr. Lecter?”  
“No.”  
“Blood pool?”  
“No.”  
  
Will drags his knees up to his chest, and lays his head upon them, like a small child in his mother's womb.  
  
“What happened?”  
“You asked me to sleep over. I came. We both entered this room. We set up our base camp -”  
“Camp?”  
“Yes. Jack and other forensic team processed this circular spot first, so we can use it without compromising any evidence. ”  
“I do not remember that.”  
  
Will shakes his head miserably.  
  
“You held the door for me, I entered. I saw darkness. There were six dead bodies. Three girls and three boys. Three paired siblings. A sister and a brother from chosen family. At least, for one of the parents. Others, I do not know. I met one in the morning, and she did not understand how big is this. It is a warning to something. Fully wrapped with care, ritualistic, but a warning. It wanted me to send out to somebody.”  
“To whom?”  
“I do not know. But you said all I saw were not true. Pure imagination. My damaged brain's work.”  
“Maybe I was wrong.”  
  
Will unfold his arm to look Hannibal. He puts his fingertip together like an old time TV detective does.  
  
“Maybe you jumped too far. You saw somebody coming before you, maybe an FBI, or some freelance private investigator. You said this room is too empty for you, right? No human.”  
“Yes.”  
“Your empathy is for human only, right?”  
  
Will huffs.  
  
"I am not Dr. Dolittle.”  
“So, There was somebody before you, not far after the crime committed. I am not familiar with your other doctor, but in my opinion, I say we just found the reason of your distress.”  
  
Will stares Hannibal with suspicion.  
  
“Is that all? That easy?”  
“It is a logical hypothesis. I cannot think another possible explanation.”  
“What a pity. It was too easy for you, but not me.”  
  
Hannibal narrows his eyes. He wipes his hands cleans up without further conversation. Silence stretches between them like a wall. Will fidgets nervously. Hannibal turns away so Will only can see the doctor's straight back. He moves with efficiency who knows what he has to do next.  
  
“Are you always sure about everything?”  
“I do not know everything, Will.”  
“It seems so.”  
  
Hannibal comes back to Will with two cups of coffee and small croissant.  
  
“Because I eat my breakfast daily.”  
  
Will laughs hysterically. Hannibal says it too solemnly, almost makes everything meaningless except a cup of coffee and a piece of bread.  
  
“Yes, daddy.”  
  
Hannibal's eyebrows perk up, but he does not say anything. After few bites and few sips, Will says softly.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
A polite nod from Hannibal is enough for Will. Silence comes back, but this time Will feels more comfortable. From breakfast, Will finds out he can copes more easier than usual. He even tells to Dr. Lecter about Dr. Dolittle and his uncanny patients. Definitely the idea of lots of furry animals rubbing on a white doctor's gown is painful for Hannibal, but Will enjoys every moment of it although it fires back when Hannibal stubbornly insists to drive Will's car to a hospital to take X-ray on his feet and additional shots to prevent any infection. He bribes Will with a phone call to Jack. A doctor in Hospital says Will can drive his car back, and there is no serious problem. Will can feel Hannibal's anxiety but he chooses to ignore it. He says goodbye to the good doctor and drives back to his home. It is a good day, Will thinks when he gets off his car in front of his house. It is a good day.  
  
Is it?  
  
Will stops in front of his door. Dogs usually howls and barks frantically when Will comes home, but this time, they don't. It is quiet. Will feels some thick liquid sliding down along his spine, passes hips, and legs, to the feet. Will bends down to see his feet. Blood is pouring down from his pants. Will gasps when hot liquid touches his face. Blood, again. Will runs toward inside of his house. Sticky, muddy sound of Will's steps becomes louder and louder. It becomes a drum for a Christmas Carol.  
  
Silent Night, Holy Night.  
  
Will jumps into the bathroom and turn on the shower without removing any clothes. Cold water flushes out and hits Will hard. He rubs his face frantically, then his ears. Will stays there, closing his eyes, until his lips turn into frozen blueberry color. When he opens his eyes, there is no hint of blood at all. He is not even wet. He is standing in his bedroom, holding a cup of coffee. Dogs watch Will carefully. Two of them nudges around Will's legs to check him out. Will takes a sip of coffee. Warm liquid makes Will more human. Will mindlessly tugs his hand behind one of the dog's ear and brushes its soft fur. It makes him calm down.  
  
“I think, I have to find the woman at schoolyard.”  
  
A Cold and wet nose touches his hands gently. It is Winston, Will's new addition to pack. It blows warm breath and licks Will's fingertip occasionally.  
  
“I know. She is....”  
  
Will does not want to say the word right away. It is adjective can be used to describe himself. Will puts his forehead on top of his dog, talking bitterly.  
  
“She needs somebody to help her.”  
  
Winston bites Will with his lips, not teeth. It is firm and strong, not harming.  
  
“You think I need some help, too.”  
  
Will is so tired to think more. He puts his cup on the floor and goes to bed. Next morning, he will find the woman and ask her some questions but old, but new murder of her children.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Her name is Iris Wong. She left a short message about how sorry she was and her address for Will. Will is happy that at least she is not a character he made, even the description of her made by Beverly Katz are off what Will remembers. She is a 5 feet or smaller Irish women, married to a Chinese American. Her husband came later and apologized to everybody and picked his wife up.  
  
Will stands across the street from Wong's house. It is a really cute house. Red brick walls, yellow garden path, garden gnomes with chubby cheeks, a sky blue colored mail box and so many flowers Will does not know their names make the house too cute. Will feels uncomfortable so he stands there for a while. It is too homey and warm for a man almost crazy. It almost kills Will when he sees Mrs. Wong coming out straw hat with red dotted ribbon. Will notices her right away because her rabbit like front teeth and thick eyebrows are same as he remembers, but everything else is different. She is a curvy woman in mid 40's, unlike Will remembers. She is wearing worn blue overall. Brown and green spots on her knees and holding green water can give Will heartbreak. They remind Will his mother. She fondly touches a cherry tree right next to her. Her nose is red, and eyes are watery. It is not from allergy. Will knows. Shadow of sorrow is hiding between her deep wrinkled skin. Will sighs and turns his back.  
  
“Mr. Graham!”  
  
She finds Will, and call his name. Will can hear her footsteps. There is no choice for him except turning back and greeting her.  
  
“Hello. Mrs. Wong.”  
“My. I am sorry. I was out of my mind. I did not want to punch you. Are you Okay?”  
  
Will smiles. He does not remember that.  
  
“I think I am okay.”  
“Thinking is not enough. I am so sorry. Did you get my message? Did you go to a doctor to check?”  
She is over-worrying and mothering same time. Maybe they are not different. Will smiles and answers as polite as he can.  
  
“Yes.”  
“I am so sorry. I do not know how to make up this.”  
“You do not have to. I understand, but don't do it again.”  
  
She stops and moves her chin up. Will is too tall for her, but she tries her best to catch Will's eyes. Will let her see his eyes for a second, and breaks away as fast as he can. She stands there, spellbound. Will clears his throat and call her.  
  
“Mrs. Wong.”  
“Oh, sorry. My. I was rude. Wasn't I? Let me give you something to drink. Coffee? Water? Juice?”  
  
She holds Will's hands and tugs gently. Will swallows hard and opens his mouth.  
  
“Sorry, Mrs. Wong. I have to go soon. I just want to ask a few question.”  
“About my children, right?”  
“Yes.”  
  
She folds her arm and hugs her body tightly. She shivers for a second, chewing her lips. Will waits patiently.  
  
“Jade and Jackie. They were my jewels. My name is Iris, and my husband, Ian. So we thought it would be wonderful to name our children J names.”  
“ J comes after I.”  
  
Her mouth draws sorrowful curves.  
  
“Yes. We were so happy. Jade was math wizard. She learned geometry so fast. Jackie was a very sensitive artist. He loved to paint. The mailbox, it was all painted by my dear Jackie. It was all ten years ago.”  
“Ten years.”  
  
Will repeats after her. She nods back.  
  
“Ten years. I counted it every day. It took ten years to bring my babies back to me.”  
“How did you.”  
  
Will stops in the middle of a sentence. It is not easy to ask such a question. He deeply inhales and pushes some words out with difficulty.  
  
“How did you find out?”  
“A woman named Fredericka Lounds called. She knew about my children. She said the murderer left photos of each child at the top of their skull, and shattered their bone on the floor. I could not believe what I heard. They were disappeared into thin air on the way back from the school. I remember that day clearly. It was Friday afternoon, in the middle of March. They were so happy to paint some eggs in art class for the upcoming Easter hunt game. Jade wore blue jeans and yellow T-shirts with chicks and Jackie wore green cargo pants and a green top. I hugged them when they left to the school. It was the last time I saw them. For ten years I wished they came back to me saying I'm back, mommy. I was obsessed with those images. I told her, they couldn't be there. I repeated it several times and it made her annoyed. She said 'go and check.' She gave me the address. So I went in there, and I met you, and.”  
  
She stops for a moment to hold herself.  
  
“And you were there, saying 'This is too old. I can do nothing.' It was true, but it hurt me. I want to know what happened to my babies, but you seemed not so willing to do. It broke me up. I wanted to do something, so I ran and punched you in the stomach.”  
  
Will puts his hands on his stomach. He does not remember anything what she said but it is not shown up his face. She wipes her tears fast and keep talking.  
  
“After polices and agents guided me out, I regained my sanity. I had been believing, somewhere, some place my children were still breathing and waiting for their mommy. You were only the messenger. I was so ashamed by my reaction.”  
“No. You don't have to feel that way. I was rude. I deserve it.”  
“No you are not. Just. Just promise me that You will not give up my children. Find justice for them.”  
  
She holds Will's hands, squeezes it hard once. Will squeezes back. They stand there for a while in silence. Finally, she breaks up silence.  
  
“Thank you for everything. It is really nice of you. You do not have to this.”  
  
She laughs a few times to hide her tear.  
  
“My, You brought me up some memory.”  
“Memory?”  
  
Will asks sharper than needed, but she doesn't mind.  
  
“I met somebody told the exact same thing when I was desperate. 'You do not have to. I understand, but don't do it again.' It was magic to me. Changed my life whole 180 degree.”  
  
Will thoughtfully wait for a moment, then asks her.  
  
“When you were drug addict?”  
  
Her eyes are wide open. For a second, she is in shock but eventually she recalls Will is a sort of law enforcement and her record is not hard to accessible for them. She tries to smile but it fails miserably. She closes her eyes, recalling long time ago, but not forgotten memories of her teenage.  
  
“Yes. 35 years ago, I was runaway teenager. I wanted to be an actress, so I ran to New York. It was a bad choice. I mixed with bad people, using whatever could make me high. One day, I pick-pocketed a middle aged doctor wearing a real strange blue suit. He caught me in action, but he didn't call police. He simply took me to a nice hotel, fed me up and bought new clothes. Then, he asked me to be a his picture's model. I agreed. I went to his studio, and he introduced me people in there. They treated me like a queen. I started modeling for everybody in there, and stop using drugs. Needles made too big mark to be a model. Drugs made me impossible to stand still and watching artists' working. It is one of the most wonderful things ever happened to me. I owe too much to Dr. Fell.”  
“Doctor...?”  
  
Will trails off. She smiles with understanding.  
  
“It is a very strange name, isn't it? Dr. Fell. He was an Italian visiting New York.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
On the way back, Will dials his doctor's number.  
  
“Hello. Dr. Lecter's offices.”  
“Hello, Dr. Lecter.”  
“Ah, Will? What a surprise. How can I help you?”  
  
Will holds his phone tighter. His palm is wet, and his breathing is irregular. He does not sure what he has to talk first. He has to tell somebody he is not really crazy. He did jump in 35 years ago and met Iris Wong in her younger days. He jumped 25 years to future from that time, to find the killer of her children. Will wants to talk this to somebody. It scares him. He was never able to make this far before. It is usually a week, or several months back.  
  
“I.”  
  
Will hesitates. Fear stops him. He does not want to ruin the only shoulder he can cry on. Will breathes more fanatically. Another voice, could be his subconscious, whispers.

 _He will leave you. He will be scared of you. You are a hideous monster._  
  
“Take your time, Will. I'm here. I will not abandon you.”  
  
Will hiccups, then giggles shamefully. It is all him. He is too childish to believe something good can be in his life once. Friendship. 

“Yes. I am talking to you, Doctor. In my car, parked in the middle of the road to my home, and it's 7:30.”  
“You can put your phone on speakerphone, so we can keep talking to you till you need no more of my service.”  
  
Gentleness and assurance push back Will to normal slowly. Hannibal counts Will's breathing until it has no more irregularity , although Will does not talk back to him for a while. He patiently waits. Slurred with tiredness, but more focused, Will answers.  
  
“Thank you, Doctor. But that is not what I need. I need to get back my memory. Can you do something?”  
“There are several options we can try, however....”  
“I need it, doctor. Now.”  
  
It is begging. He begged to the Doctor. Will notices it after he speaks out. It is too late to cover up or hide it cleverly. Will swallows hard and waiting. A minute after, soothing voice answers back.  
  
“I need 30 minutes to prepare.”  
“Great. I'll be there in 45 minutes.”  
“See you then, Will.”  
  
Will drives his car to Baltimore. 45 minute drive will be enough for him to think more.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr.Fell from Italy. I think we all know his true identity.  
> Not beta -ed. I wish I could find somebody to help me out, but well. This is my first English Fan Fiction and such luck does not come by easily.  
> I hope you enjoyed it!


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